


you wanna be a manhattan hero

by butterbum



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, F/F, F/M, M/M, Niam Horayne, On Hiatus, One direction AU, Rated For Violence, larry stylinson - Freeform, larry stylinson au, one direction - superpower au, rated for language, rated for sexual scenes clothes stay on, superhero au, superpower au, zerrie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 14:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1308205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterbum/pseuds/butterbum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You fly,” he said, not quite accusing, but definitely not a question. </p><p>“Yeah,” said the boy, beginning to circle Louis, the fascination never having left his eyes as he examined him. “I’m pretty strong, too, I think.”<br/>+<br/>superhero au.<br/>(MAYBE ON HIATUS!!) 7/14/15</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHA. So I made this over a year ago. Please don't kill me (especially if you are British.) I may have made up some places, names, powers, names, British customs, etc.

In retrospect, maybe Niall should not have stayed out until eleven o'clock under the pretense of a school project, because maybe then he would have remembered to set the alarm, and maybe he would not have overslept until 7:05. He had ten minutes until the late bell and hadn't eaten breakfast; not to mention the fantastic hangover he had, beating his brain to mush.

He stumbled downstairs and grabbed a banana and a glass of milk, deciding he ought to just pull on jeans and his hoodie over his tank top and pants. Then he could-- what? Hijack a car to drive himself to school? He had to walk every morning and it took a good fifteen minutes just to reach campus.

"Well, fuck," Niall sighed to the empty kitchen and grabbed his hoodie off of the coatrack before pounding up the stairs to his room. He ran around, much like a chicken with its head cut off, throwing papers and binders into his book sack at random, trying to pull his jeans on at the same time. Right before he hopped out of the window, he grabbed a piece of mint from his mother's sill garden, popped it into his mouth, and then sped down the fire escape.

He ran block to block, thanking the higher forces for blessing him with such wonderful genes for running as he went. As he rushed by Mr. Westing's house, he saw the rotund man humming on his porch, and waved heartily. "Good morning, Mr. Westing!" he shouted, but Mr. Westing seemed not to have heard him at all, and swatted lazily at a stray fly.

Niall frowned but kept running until he could see the school in his sight, slowed to a jog, then stopped altogether. There were people still chatting in the courtyard, trading homework answers and drugs and gossip, as if the bell hadn't rung. Surely it had rung by now, seeing as it had been ten minute til class when he woke up and had taken at least twenty-five minutes to get here?

Still in awe, Niall checked his phone and found 7:07 staring back at him.

"Two minutes?" he gasped. "There's no fucking _way_."

~*~

On October eleventh, Liam Payne almost died.

Twice.

The first time was when he was on the ninth story of his apartment complex and leaning out the window to take a picture of the absolutely _gorgeous_ skyline as the sun rose that morning. He was kneeling on a chair with his torso hanging over the sill when the chair legs decided to collapse and splinter beneath him and suddenly he was flipping headfirst out of the window.

One thing Liam did wish was that maybe as he fell to his near-death he would have a meaning-of-life revelation, but he didn't. Instead he stopped falling about five stories later, hanging upside down in mid-air. He hung there for a few for seconds, blood rushing to his head and examining his reflection in the apartment complex's windows.  
Decidedely, he had no green radioactive material oozing from his skin. He also had no pointed ears or glowing red eyes or wings. It was definitely more phenomenal that that.  
He was just Liam Payne, hanging upside down, and holding onto absolutely nothing.

~*~

The thing is about Zayn, is that Zayn is studious and quiet and exceptionally talented in art.

And that's about it. And technically, he's lying, but technically, he isn't, because that's what he thinks is the truth.

“Honey, I’m home,” Zayn called out boisterously, tossing the groceries onto the counter. “I’m gonna just meditate for a while, okay?” There was a shuffle heard from the back room and Zayn imagined his friend flipping off the door. Poor chap was sick as hell. “Alright sweetheart, lovely day, you should get out. I’ll just leave the perishables to you, then,” Zayn shouted, and flopped onto the couch, crossing his legs and placing his hands on his knees. 

As soon as he shut his eyes, it was like hitting mute on a television. There was nothing there but blackness and a ringing that seemed to throb. When Zayn opened his eyes again, he was on top of Peter Hall, painted pink and trimmed with jewels. The city around it was morphed and was very similar to a Dr. Seuss illustration, twisting and defying gravity, physics, science. Zayn lifted off, twisting elegantly through the air and spiraling between the city buildings that were growing taller, like grass in fast forward, and he climbed steadily upward to see over the tops. 

“Alright, that’s enough, I think,” he muttered, as he reached the top of a mint green hotel, and at his command the building ceased growing. From here, he could see the never ending sunset on the edge of a never ending world, the city spiraling in all directions, colorful and twisted and patches of different buildings, different periods of history and style and elegance. 

“Zayn?”

Zayn turned around. There was no one there. “What?” 

“Zayn? Where are you, mate? I thought you were meditating?”

 _Ron?_ , Zayn thought incredulously. _But--_

The city flickered and shut off like a television before him and Zayn was suddenly opening his eyes in the dingy living room of his friend’s house, with Ron standing in robe, coffee cup spilling onto the rug, eyes wide and jaw gaping horrendously. 

“Am I particularly gorgeous today?” Zayn asked tentatively, trying to joke but wondering if he should get up to catch his friend because he looked very close to fainting. “Ron?”  
“I, uh,” Ron swallowed thickly. “Did you know that you completely disappear when you meditate?”

~*~

The second time Liam Payne almost died was several hours afterward, when he and Mark were headed to the body shop after school let out. They were crossing the busiest avenue in Kinglsey when, like the chair, a huge 18-wheeler chose to come hurtling down the highway with it's horn blaring. Later, the police would say that it was going almost ninety with heavy cargo, and there must be a mistake because no one could survive from that.

But Liam did. He even did more damage to the 18-wheeler than it did to him. He has the hood of the truck with his handprint in it to prove it.

~*~

Louis Tomlinson liked nature better than being inside and liked the sky even more than that. It was huge and wide and open and without a doubt the most powerful thing to ever exist.

When he was sixteen, and living outside of the boundaries of Kingsley, there began to be a static air following him around. Some days he'd wake up and his entire room would be filled with fog. His mother told him he smelled of ozone and rain. Storms stopped when he went outside, and when he went to his garden there was a little raincloud following him around like a lost puppy and helped him water the plants.

It wasn't until a few weeks after the strange atmospheric presence that he began to realize it wasn't just... _coincidental_.  
A huge storm hit a beach town, a few miles away on the coast. Every British television was tuned to the weather, and every channel crackled with news of the soon-to-be-hurricane, plunging inland.

And Louis, stupidly brave and unafraid of his mortality, had gone outside to watch the threatening, blue-tinted clouds barrel over the horizon and block out the sun. As he observed it, alarm bells went off in his head. It was impossible to ignore, like a blip on a radar in his head; but since when did he have a radar?  
He sensed a presence, dangerous and huge, and he knew it was to his right. It took him a few deep breaths before he could bring himself to turn and face the whipping winds, swirling into a two mile wide vortex. A hurricane dominated the sky.

Later, Louis would say he didn't see anything, but he _did_. He saw himself raise his hands, not even realising what he was _doing_ , and screaming at the top of his lungs, _"Sleep!"_.

He blacked out after that.

Jay said that Louis had been passed out in the field, from overexertion, and Louis said that he had been training for footie tryouts.  
But that didn't seem authentic to Louis, seeing as the only muscle that ached was his brain.

~*~

Niall decided to stop by the comic store James worked at a few days later. The place was musty and sort of dark, like someone hadn't turned on all the lights. No one was at the cash register, and there was only the low murmur of the air conditioner from the back of the store to keep him company while he walked cautiously down the aisles, taking in the titles and the drawings and the powers. _Wonder Woman. Green Lantern. Venom. Flash. Sandman--_

“Huh?” He turned and backed up a couple of steps. Flash. He gently picked up the book and flipped through a few pages. It was surprisingly thick, about the size of his mother's Vogue magazines. Each page was glossy and brightly colored. Flash wore a red suit, and had lightning bolts above his ears, and he was fast. It only took a few minutes for Niall to find out more than he had come for about super speed. Factoids and ways to use it littered every page, through every adventure.

In awe, Niall shoved the book under his arm and began to nose his way around for more. As he turned the corner, he ran into a warm body, strong, seeing at he was the one that bounced back onto the floor with his pile of Flash comics scattering across the floor.

“Oh,” said a sweet voice above him, and he looked up to find a gorgeous, but almost adorable puppy-like boy standing with an armful of comics like himself, and looking so sorry and regretful that Niall began to wonder if the boy thought he had hurt him in some way.

“'S fine! 'S fine,” Niall insisted at the pretty boy's expression, who seemed torn between throwing his own comics into the air to pick up Niall's, or crying, while Niall picked up the books. “Accidents happen, 'n all that,” Niall tried to comfort, standing up and brushing himself off.

“Sorry, I'm really sorry,” the boy blubbered, and then Niall noticed that every one of the comics the lad held were Superman. “Really, I just haven't gotten used to--” and he cut himself off, just like that, and Niall raised an eyebrow.

“Gotten used to bumping into people? It happens, mate,” Niall brushed it off, and the boy smiled gratefully, and tentatively held out his free hand. “I'm Liam,” he offered. Niall grabbed his hand and shook, enjoying the feeling of Liam's soft hand and warm palm. “Niall,” he replied, and quickly forced himself to drop his hand.  
“Well,” he started, nodding toward Liam and beginning to inch past, “I ought to be on my way.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Liam replied almost too enthusiastically as he nodded, looking a little flustered. “Of course. I’ll- uh, I’ll see you around, mate.”

~*~

Harry Styles was many things: clean, a little lonely, bookworm. He folded his underwear and closed his shades and walked to school. Harry Styles was fairly boring, maybe, but Harry Styles was not electric.

Well. He wasn't until 5 o'clock on October 19th.

Harry woke up on October 19th, and felt unusual.

Feeling unusual was not a usual thing.

So, feeling unusual, Harry determinedly made the decision to get up anyway. The sheet clung to him from static, but nothing shocked him. He stuck a fork in the toaster, and saw the electricity rush from the metal tip to his hand, but only felt energized. He pressed on, sticking his fingers in light sockets, and then accidentally short-circuiting the power in his house when he did. For a while, he sat in the darkness of his house, wondering quietly and trying to come up with an explanation for his sudden ability to not die from things that should have sent him to a hospital, brain fried and body singed.  
There wasn't much science to it.

~*~

The trees were a little blurred, but no more than normally. Surely he was doing something wrong; Niall pushed a little harder, panting with the exertion. His vision flickered for a second and there was a sudden rush through his nerves. Everything in his body seemed to move up a gear, his sight sharpened and cleared, there was a burst of wind against him and suddenly his feet were a blur, his thoughts screamed through his brain, the scenery was splotches of color. Niall gave a sharp intake of break with the exhilaration, the energy bursting through him, suddenly feeling totally nerve-sparked and powered. His could see, but he couldn’t—it was all running through his head, being processed at an insanely rapid pace, dodging trees and rivers and holes. The feeling of using it—this _power_ \-- it was _amazing._  
It only lasted for about fifteen seconds before suddenly his vision flickered back and all at once Niall was knee-deep in snow.

“Bloody--” he gasped, and whipped around. Behind him, a smoking, waterlogged trail cut through three feet of bitter snow. “Where am I?” 

Although his body seemed to have slowed, his brain had not and Niall could practically see his trail, speed, and distance being processed at breakneck velocity.  
Four hundred and fifty-seven miles in fifteen seconds, tracking across England into the eastern coast. How he knew was baffling. All Niall _really_ knew was that he could run, and run very, very fast, and that all he wanted to do right now was that very thing.


	2. Pieces

Over the heads of the crowd, Harry could see him putting away his books, laughing with his dark blonde friend who leaned casually against the lockers. The boy slammed his own locker shut and then grinned, and without wanting to, Harry found a wonderful feeling blooming in his chest at it. Harry couldn’t help it sometimes, seeing him and feeling instantly drawn, like stepping into a magnetic field. But didn’t the lad do that to everyone in school? Louis Tomlinson really was a gorgeous boy, wisps of hair sticking out at odd angles around his bright blue eyes that seemed to glow all the time. Always smelled like rain and footie team seemed to be the best thing that could have happened to his biceps. Not to mention his reputation for flirty cheekiness. 

Harry didn’t even realize his little wishful sigh, the dopey smile on his face, or the sudden crackling in the air around him. It only took a second before there was an electric _pop_ , and suddenly everyone within five feet yelped as Harry’s electricity shocked them. 

“Oh god,” his eyes went wide and he quickly ducked into the crowd and weaved through the bodies, cheeks burning and desperately trying to calm his power and will his hair to stop sticking straight up and his clothes to stop clinging to him like he had stuck a fork in a socket. 

He didn’t notice the pair of blue eyes that followed him as he escaped. 

~*~

Mr. Reedy’s class was a perfect opportunity. He hated Niall so he placed him at the back of the class, never called on him, and it was Computer Programming; they never left the laptops. As Reedy droned on about HTML and PHP and the importance of links and type, Niall quickly opened a window in Firefox and researched _superspeed_. It turned up 2,330,000 results and Niall raised his eyebrows. “Better get started, then,” he mumbled to himself, and began to read the first article. 

Superspeed had seemed childishly simple until he came across all the types of superspeed, abilities associated with it, the limitations and uses. It went on for ages. Basic levels could outrun Olympic track stars or maybe the speed of a car; but Niall was positive he had gone far past car speed. There were Master Levels, traveling _beyond_ the speed of light, or Expert Level, where the user could run at the speed of _sound_. 

Speed of sound was about 360 meters per second; Niall quickly calculated on the laptop. If he had been going four hundred and fifty or so miles in fifteen seconds… that would be about 30 miles per second. _My god,_ Niall took a sharp breath. He had been going faster than the speed of sound. 

So, that excluded the Expert Level. He had been running nearly ninety times that. The next level was running at Mach 5, and confused, Niall quickly searched it. Mach 5 was1701.45 meters per second, the speed needed to break the sound barrier. A mile per second. _Holy fuck_ , Niall went pale. Still thirty times that speed. Could he really be…?

He was breaking the sound barrier thirty times over, but, as he searched, he was still quite a few million mph away from light speed. Niall slumped in his chair with a relieved sigh, overwhelmed but completely and totally beside himself with excitement. 

~*~

The wind whispered through the trees gently, at first, but with a little thought, _faster_ , it was whipping by so quickly that tree branches snapped off and were tossed into the air. Huge, bloated thunderclouds gathered overhead, deep purplish and blue, heavy with rain and swirling with the wind. Lightning crackled across the sky in time with the booming thunder and the sudden bucket of stinging rain that fell from the sky in a wave. 

The droplets stung Louis’ face and he deftly snapped his fingers, the rain opening like curtains around him, leaving Louis in the eye of the storm, the weather rushing around him in a cyclone. It was exhilarating. 

It only took a few seconds before Louis noticed the shape, hovering at the edge of his storm. It darted between the clouds and then to the outside again, tentative and watchful. Distracted, the rain ceased to a dribble and Louis turned in circles to watch the flying shape, going at incredible speed and with agility, swooping closer as it seemed to realize Louis’ storm was dying. 

It was very close before Louis suddenly realized the thing was a person, a lad probably Louis’ age, with soft brown eyes that were wide with fascination. He landed gently in front of Louis, and Louis quickly analyzed him. Strong arms, broad chest, tall with buzzed hair, but the face of a puppy and the clothes of a sentimental goody two shoes. He felt the instinct to trust him, but refused it, placing his hands on his hips and staring determinedly up in the boy’s eyes. 

“You fly,” he said, not quite accusing, but definitely not a question. 

“Yeah,” said the boy, beginning to circle Louis, the fascination never having left his eyes as he examined him. “I’m pretty strong, too, I think.”

Louis began to feel extremely strange at how casual it sounded, the whole conversation; the first time he meets another supernatural person, and he was expecting shouting and confusion. But it was completely calm and friendly, like they had already known there were more like themselves and had been searching for each other for ages. “Strong?” he tried, still wrapped in his thoughts. “Is there any kryptonite involved?”

“I--” the boy stopped and looked Louis in the eye. “No. Fifteen and a half, I woke up and found out I could fly and don't die when eighteen wheelers hit me.”

Louis winced. "Exciting day," he commented, and cleared his throat. “Same. But I was a couple months from sixteen and I, uh, stopped a tornado.” 

The boy stopped circling and gaped openly. “The freak storm? That disappeared into thin air? That was you?” 

“I- yeah,” Louis felt his chest swell a little with pride. “That was me.”

“Christ,” the boy smacked his forehead—

"Before we get any farther into this, can we introduce ourselves?" Louis offered. "I really need to know who you are."

“Liam,” said Liam, not missing a beat and holding out a hand. “Louis,” Louis replied, and gripped.

There was a moment of heavy silence where unasked questions boiled in the air.

“What else can you do?” Liam broke. 

“I just control the weather, storms and sunny days, the such,” Louis shrugged, but Liam seemed in awe. “ _Just the weather_? Mate, you could control the world’s weather, like, from here, if you practiced!”

“I- what?” Louis gaped. “ You know how-- Okay, I need to know everything you know about—about this, you know, the powers. Have you met anyone else?”

“No,” Liam sighed. “Well, yes, a year ago, but I didn't know they were super then. You’re the only one I know. But I have done a lot of research, and my uncle was a super before he died— ”

“A super?” Louis interrupted. 

Liam shook his head. “Let’s go somewhere more comfortable… there’s a lot to tell.”

~*~

Louis stirs his fudge ice cream distractedly. Liam seems calm, if a little twitchy from Louis’ scrutiny, and takes his time with a few bites of his Greek yogurt.

“So,” Louis clears his throat.

“Right,” Liam sets down his spoon. “So, that’s what we call ourselves. Supers. Superhero isn’t an accurate term, ‘cause some of us don’t actually turn out to be heroes. A good bit turn into villains. This isn’t the kind of power you can kill or keep away from baddies.”

“How _do_ we get it?” Louis leaned closer, already entranced. 

“First,” Liam holds up a hand and swallows another spoonful of ice cream. “First, you should know that I know all of this because my uncle was a super. He was an earthshifter, controlled the ground and elements, like rock. He wrote this journal about the things he learned about, about being a super, kept it in the attic, and when he died twenty years ago, I got to keep the book, if only for fairy tales. My parents said he was just crazy, died of insanity in a facility in Russia.” Liam swallowed, still completely casual, while Louis was trying to keep his jaw from falling open. 

“But when I turned fifteen, super strength, it’s hard to control. I smashed things, broke things, jumped a little higher than everyone else in gym. It took a while before I got my full powers. And it happens for everyone that way; it starts small, and then one day you get your full powers. You usually can’t control it on that day, and you probably remember it. Yours was the day you stopped the tornado, right?”

“Yeah.” 

“Mine was when I fell out a window and almost was hit by an eighteen wheeler. It seems to happen like that. But that’s also the day we get our auras--”

“Oh god, slow down,” Louis gasps and buried his face in his hands, eyes squeezed shut. His head spun. “I need some time to absorb. I have never learned so much in my life.”

“Okay,” Liam says, haltingly. “I can slow down a little. I’ll just explain how we get it. But I won’t go too fast. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Louis huffs, and as he sat up, he couldn’t pry his hands from the table. They clenched the edge, tense and white. “Yeah. Hit me.”

“I, uh, actually memorized this,” Liam says. “There’s no real system. It’s the random selection of a recessive hidden gene in every _Homo sapien_. It’s practically undetectable, and because normal people aren’t supposed to have powers anyway, they can't find it. About five to eleven percent of everyone is selected from the gene to get powers.” He paused. “Doing okay, Lou?”

“Yeah,” Louis nods, takes a deep breath. “Go on. What else?”

“The powers are undetectable until about age fifteen… then small accidents and triggers until you can grow to mass control and huge development of the power. No one’s power in insignificant. All of them can expand and become infinitely more powerful with training. If you stop using your power, though, you can lose it.” Liam sighs. “You have to keep using it or it’ll disappear; slowly, but after a while, you won’t be able to get it back.”

“Wow.” Louis leans back, lets out a low whistle. “So if I stopped using my power for a week?”

Liam shakes his head. “You would still have it. It would be a little weaker, sure, but it’s like a muscle, almost. If you stop exercising for a week, you’ll need a little more training to get back up to peak fitness. My uncle wrote about a girl who lost her powers because she thought they were too destructive, that they were turning her into a weapon. They were gone within five months or so.”

“That is—“ Louis swallows. “That’s really fast.”

“Yeah,” Liam scratches his head. “It’s a little painful, too, because it’s like denying a natural part of you. When it leaves, stops working, you would know. It self-destructs, actually. The gene does. The gene is supernatural, has a lot of magical sort of science involved. It’s hidden, recessive, randomly selected, has a trigger for self-destruct and a countdown. Completely unnatural.”

Louis just laughs, a little startled for a second. “Are you a science guy?” he demands, tilting his head. “You seem to know it so well. All of it.”

“Nah,” Liam shrugs, glances down at his hands. “Just been studying that notebook for eight years and researching supers for a year and a half. I’ve been searching for a long time for people like me. Even with the auras, they are hard to find. Some of them don’t even want to be found, which makes it even more complicated.”

“Wow,” Louis shakes his head. “You really are something else, Liam.”

Liam looks stunned for a second, then blushes. “Thanks,” he muttered, grinning bashfully. 

It only takes a second before he is back down to business though, voice down and eyes serious. “There are really only a few more things that are really important,” he continues quietly. “The first is probably the auras. You use it all the time, you just don’t realize it. We all have it. Supers, that is. We all have auras. Have you seen me in school before?”  
“I- uh, we go to school together?” Louis winces. 

Liam shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. I’m in the class below you, we don’t see each other much. But I’ve seen you before, and I could sense your aura. Auras really don’t tell much, except that you are a super. Some people are fantastic Readers though, and they can read the auras, and learn things like age, power, how much they use it. I haven’t met any before, obviously, but it’s interesting to know we could find one. Readers are fantastic at finding other supers; they’re highly sensitive to the auras. But that’s beside the point,” Liam smiled. “The point is that we can find other supers using their auras. Some smother their auras but they still are detectable.”

“Wait, wait,” Louis holds up his hands. His head is spinning again. “So I could find supers in a crowd by sensing them?”

“Theoretically,” Liam nods. “There aren’t so many here, so I wouldn’t have first-hand experience. Have you felt anything like that around people at school? You may have had it happen and not known what it was.”

“No, I--” Louis cuts his denial off abruptly, remembering something happening the other day much like Liam had described. He can't quite recall though who it was or where, just the magnetic feeling. 

“Yes,” he decides. “Yeah, but I can’t remember who it was.”

“Do they go to school?”

“I really can't remember, honestly.” Louis shakes his head. “Maybe I’ll see them again. I’ll tell you if I find any people who might be supers.”

“Wait, so you’re in on this?” Liam sits up straight and he is beaming. Excitement practically glows from him. “You’ll do it?”

“Do what?” Louis asks cautiously. 

“Help me find other supers! We can find others, like, here and in nearby cities and stuff, and we can help each other out. You know. Create a network so a super is never alone.”  
“So a super is never alone,” Louis murmurs under his breath, and remembers the first days of his power, when he was out of control and weak with trying to figure everything out. The months of loneliness and desperation. The ominous feeling of hiding, and the danger of being caught, the not-knowing of anything. The ugly, black feeling of isolation. The hair on the back of his neck stands on end. 

Louis reaches across the table and grips Liam’s hand in a firm handshake. “I would never dream of missing out on it, mate.”

~*~

“Oh god, oh god, oh my god.” Harry yanked at his hair and bolts of electricity shot out exploded against the wall. “Shit,” Harry whispered, eyes wide with horror. Everything he touched was exploding and breaking and his entire body was covered in crackling electricity, visible and threading through the air. The power in the house was out, short circuited and every bulb shattered on the ground. Harry was desperately trying to get out, but every move he made sent destructive bolts of lightning into the furniture, the walls, and everything was singed and smoking. 

He tripped backward, and grabbed the counter to hold himself steady. The plastic instantly began to spark and melt with the heat of the building electric field. He yelped and let go, tumbling to the ground and sending sparks in all directions. His body was glowing now, and electricity beginning to surround him in a bright white sphere. “Oh god, shit, what am I doing? Stop, stop, stop it, you’ve got to stop,” he panted, scrambling to his feet in a blind panic, trying desperately to get to the front door. When he finally gripped the doorknob, electricity engulfed the entire thing, turning the knob black and crackling across the door in a web of lightning bolts. Harry cried out and wrenched the door open, throwing himself out into the snow. There was a thud, and then. 

Silence except for Harry’s quiet pants.

Everything was black for a few moments. That is, until he opened his eyes. 

“ _Wow_.”

The snow was humming with blue energy, conducting the electricity like water would. Harry slowly stood, knees shaky and lips dry. He gently touched the snow, and the electricity rippled outward like a droplet hitting the surface of a lake.

What surprised him the most was the fact that the snow was not melting. It stood, pristine and crystallized, casting an ethereal blue glow over everything. The trees looked as if they were underwater, reflecting the blue and the webs of electricity. Energy pulsed up the trees, climbing slowly as if it were affected by gravity—or, as if it were affected by—  
“It’s acknowledging me,” Harry whispered into the night, awed. It had been months and months of out of control electric storms and fields and fires, and finally it became still. For the first time since the day he woke up and stuck a fork in the toaster, Harry felt like he could sleep.

~*~

“Imaginary constructs,” Zayn announced as he walked into his bedroom. “It’s called imaginary constructs.”

“Lemme see,” Ron made grabby hands and Zayn handed him the papers off of the top of the pile of books and tossed the rest on his bed. 

“Alright,” Zayn cleared his throat, sliding his glasses on his nose and snatching the papers from his friend as he sat down next to him. “Well, first off, it’s not actually imaginary constructs. I haven’t found anything that matches my power yet, but imaginary constructs and imaginary entity are the best matches so far. The only difference is that they can create extension from their psychic energy into something tangible.”

“But yours are inside your head,” Ron said, flipping through one of the books and glancing at Zayn. “And you turn invisible.”

“Well, yeah, but this is the closest I’ve got,” Zayn sighed, tossing the papers on the bed. “I’ve spent more hours than I ever wanted to in that stupid library researching this and I haven’t found anything closer than creating things that you can use in real life from their minds. The only variations are where they create them from insanity or emotions or ectoplasm.” He flopped backwards onto the books. 

“Maybe it’s a new power,” Ron mused, still flipping through the Marvel book Zayn had brought. “Is there some sort of superhero index for this stuff?”

“I don’t know,” Zayn mumbled, muffled in the pillow. “I don’t even know if there are more of me out there. What if I’m the only person in the world with supernatural powers?” 

“Zayn?” 

Nothing. 

“Zayn, don’t get upset.”

Zayn sniffled a little. “I don’t _want_ to be the only one.”

“Hey, look at me, mate.”

Zayn turned over reluctantly. Ron sat, smiling softly. “I said, don’t get upset. If there are no other people with powers like yours, then I’ll help you every step of the way, okay? You dragged me into this, and if you need help, I’m always here to help get us out.”

Zayn’s smile wobbled and his eyes teared up. “Thanks, mate,” he whispered and took his friend into a crushing hug. 

 

~*~

 

Louis’ eyes swept the crowd. People were constantly pouring into the school, and as far as Louis knew, everyone went in through the front door from the parking lot, which was why he chose to stand casually by the door as everyone went inside, inconspicuously examining everyone that walked by.

Louis was searching for any rogue supers, specifically the one he was sure he had sensed the other day. It wasn’t long before Liam came walking up, and the lad immediately waved and came to stand by Louis. 

“Have you seen anything?” Liam queried. 

“Nah,” Louis kept his eyes on the stream of people trickling in through the door. “Haven’t felt so much as a pinch since I got here. I’m starting to think I saw them on the streets or something.”

“Don’t give up yet,” Liam murmured, clapping a hand on Louis’ shoulder and pulling a worn leather journal from his bag. He tossed it over to Louis, and the latter caught it. "There's the book," Liam nodded toward it as he backed away. "Keep it safe."

Louis nodded. “Right. Of course. I’ll see you later, mate. Keep me updated.”

“No problem,” said Liam with a small smile and he slipped into the crowd.

A few minutes passed, and when it happened, it happened very quickly. Louis was looking down at the book to shove it into his backpack, and a magnet drew his head up. Just as quickly as it was there, it was gone. Louis shoved the book away, and dashed into the school. The magnet was very faint now as he weaved his way through the bodies. It was only a few seconds before the signal disappeared completely. “Damn it,” he muttered frustratedly, frantically twisting in circles but not seeing anyone who seemed to have an aura. “Missed them.”


End file.
